


Baby, I've been here before

by wh4t4sh4me



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Episode: s01ep07, M/M, Magic to make the sanest Man go mad, Mudd has a crush on Lorca, Mudd is the last person you want to have a crush on you, Obvious content is obvious folks, Psyopath!Mudd, Torture, hinted Lorca/Burnham, hinted Tyler/Burnham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 12:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wh4t4sh4me/pseuds/wh4t4sh4me
Summary: What feels like reality for them, is a mere possibility for him. The reset button is always in his reach and he screws them over as many times as he likes to, like some NPCs in a 21th century video game.So much time at his hands. No consequences, whatsoever.He feels like some kind of god.Like a little child watching after it has put the garden hose into an ant hill.---Set in s01ep07:Mudd is learning more and more about the crew of the Discovery and the spore drive. When he tries something out, things take an interesting turn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To quote my lovely beta: "This is...terrible...Awful...GIMME MORE!"
> 
> Ily, dear, really! Thanks for reading my gibberish!

Before Mudd can step between his fiancé and her father on the platform he takes a last look over his shoulder, eyeing the Star Fleet officers calmly standing behind him, blocking the way out of the transporter room.

Behind their well trained appearance he can see many emotions; such as satisfaction and quiet glee but also a great deal of anger. Repulsion. Burnham looks like she wants to punch him.

…They got him for good, he has to admit that.

All eyes are on him, pitiless, expecting the same; for him to just go up there and take his place beside Stella and her daddy.

But Harry wouldn't be Harry, if he would not at least try to gain a small victory before he accepts his fate.

As he passes Burnham, he leans slightly in, saying something in a low voice.  
A grin spreads across his face as he sees her stone-faced facade crack slightly, showing confusion.

It isn't much, but it's enough for him.  
He waves mockingly at them when his atoms begin to scatter as the transportation process begins.

Then he is gone.

On the way back to the bridge Tyler matches his steps with Burnham’s, with Stamets falling a little behind.

“…What did Mudd say to you?”, he asks.

Burnham shakes her head, still looking bewildered.  
“Something very strange…I…” She stops, pulling a face. “He said: Commanding Officers who don't wear underwear should not be trusted.”

Tyler opens his mouth, but closes it again. It takes a few seconds before he has processed the sentence correctly.

He frowns, still speechless.

“Well, that is…very strange indeed…”

“Do…You don't think it means something? I'm 90% sure he just wanted to…throw me off.”  
They reach the turbo lift and step inside.

“We could ask Stamets…?” Tyler says, shrugging. 

The science officer lifts his head as his name is mentioned. “Yes?”  
The lights from the different deck levels pass by in a frenzy.  
Burnham shakes her head. “No. I don't think it is anything we should pay attention to.”

“What is going on?” Stamets looks back and forth between the other two standing in the lift with him.

“Mudd said something very odd before he left.” Tyler feels obliged to inform him. “Like not to trust officers who don't wear underwear, or something like that.”  
“Oh, I agree.” The science officer says lightly. “…You should generally not trust anyone who doesn't do that.”

The lift doors open silently before them while Tyler laughs quietly and Burnham looks even more uncomfortable.


	2. Chapter 2

~

Mudd enjoys exploring the What if’s of this world without suffering from the consequences.  
He has discovered some time ago that the threat of death has the tendency to show off aspects in people's personalities that maybe they themselves were not aware off.  
Mostly ugly.  
Few decent, maybe “heroic” even. - Which does not matter, because even when you die manly, standing your ground, you're still…dead. In the end.  
Bummers.  
But not really relevant to Harry.  
What feels like reality for them, is a mere possibility for him. The reset button is always in his reach and so he screws them over as many times as he likes to, like some NPCs in a 21th century video game.

So much time at his hands. No consequences, whatsoever.  
He feels like some kind of god.  
Like a little child watching after it has put the garden hose into an ant hill.

A truly great thing is when he comes across the triggers of certain people, their breaking points.  
And there are so many ways to break one single person, so many!

~

“All aboard the psychological study “Discovery”, fasten your seatbelt!” he says while stepping out of the turbo lift.

Everybody on the bridge turns their heads, surprised, shocked.  
Of course, it is Lorca who first finds his voice again.

“Mudd!”

That all to familiar snarl. And Harry can hardly keep himself from rolling his eyes. He wishes there was a skip button or something like that.

“What are you doing on my ship?

Lorca’s face is lit up with rightful wrath at the intruder as he gets up from the captain’s chair, that cocksure bounce to his steps.

“Oh, please, not this again.”

Harry sighs dramatically and lifts his phaser which brings Lorca to a stop, the confidence on his face slightly fading.

It is undeniable that Harry takes special pleasure in teasing the Captain, trying to push the man as far as possible before he comes at him with bared teeth and clenched fists, more of a feral dog than anything else. Which is far easier accomplished than he would have guessed.

Things which are like a red cloth for the Captain include:

killing anyone on the bridge without warning or bargaining  
threatening the science consultant  
killing the science consultant  
killing Tyler  
sitting in the chair

Didn't someone once say to him that writing something down is what differentiates science from child’s play? Well, he is taking mental notes for sure.

And Lorca looks always so offended when he dies.  
Like if he wants to ask Harry how he could have the actual nerve to pull the trigger on him.

If he is honest with himself, which he usually is, Harry has to admit that the captain's insulted face before he vaporises into a cloud of his own atoms does something for him.  
He is still pinpointing what exactly it is, because the word “vengeance” doesn't quite get it…

Since the concept of wasted time doesn't exist to him in the loop, he is not afraid of going astray from his quest to find out about the ship's spore drive.  
That can always wait.  
\- Although, you can't really call it “waiting” since… It is probably a time paradox.  
Anyway.  
But knowing what Lorca can turn into, Harry wants to explore, fathoming the man's exact limits.

He hums to himself as the lift doors open and the bridge crew again stares at him like sheep.

“Mudd! What are you doing on my ship?”

Like he hasn't already lost.  
It gets so boring.  
Shouldn't be the fact that Harry made it unnoticed to the bridge be big enough of an indicator that something's clearly wrong? Maybe Lorca is just too dull or self-absorbed to notice.

“Greetings, Ladies and Gentlemen. And as proof that I'm not joking with you…”

He fires the phaser once and the communication officer collapses over his console.

“Tyler, no!”

The call comes from Lorca, holding his old unfaithful cellie back just in time before he jumps at Harry.

“Captain?” Tyler stares at Harry.

Harry grins at the tall man.  
Now is actually a crucial point: If he kills someone else too quickly, they will try to stop him by all means. Which would mean he has to restart the loop anew.  
No, they must believe that they can reason with him, bargain, if he wants some new information.

“Thank you, Lorca. Computer, transport Officer Tyler to the arrest cells.”

“Computer, cancel order!”, Lorca barks out.

“Denied.”, the serene voice of the ship replies and Tyler vanishes before he can take another step.  
Lorca blinks, before he addresses his first officer. “Mr. Saru?!”

The kelpien looks up from his console. “Captain, I can't access any of the ship's critical systems, I…”

Harry interrupts him cheerfully. “Computer, transport the First Officer to the arrest cells as well!”  
Saru is gone in an instant. Lorca's head snaps back into Harry’s direction, jaw clenched.

“…What do you want, Mudd? What is going on here?”

Having heard what comes next often enough, Harry doesn't respond to Lorca's question but lifts his phaser, pointing it at the consultants head. He feels satisfaction as he sees Lorca's face drop slightly.

Yes, fear.

He had to get rid of Tyler beforehand though, because having him and the captain around while holding a phaser to this woman has proven to be troublesome.  
He can't keep them both in check all the time.

At this point he is quite sure, that there are more feelings than mere camaraderie involved here. Male courtship display is always so predictable - and obvious!  
He turns to the woman.

“Are you sleeping with your captain?” he asks in a casual tone.

“Burnham, don't talk to him.”

The woman's - Burnham - eyes fly back and forth between Lorca and Harry but she keeps silent. She clearly feels uncomfortable, but not because of the phaser in his hands.

“What do you want, Mudd?”

“The spore drive.”

“I am quiet sure I don't know what you are talking about.”

“Oh, captain…” He clicks his tongue in pity. “We both know that that is a lie.” His tone keeps light.

He addresses Burnham again. “You got a thing for authority figures, don't you?”

He has to hand it to her that her face stays absolutely expressionless.

Lorca begins to move into his direction, fists clenched. “Mudd!”

Harry had to shoot him at this point a few times, before he figured out what would keep him on track. He lifts the phaser higher, taking a step into Burnham's direction, looking at Lorca as if he wants to dare him.  
As predicted the captain stops, restraining himself.

“The spore drive, Captain.”

“What is that? Enlighten me.”

“A great actor was surely lost on you, Captain.”

He thinks about shooting another of the officers on the bridge but decides that he would push Lorca to far with that.

It's a tightrope act with this man, truly.

An idea comes to Harry’s mind and he grins.

He feels excitement growing in him, diabolical anticipation.  
It's… different, but there is no harm in at least testing what will happen, right?

For science and stuff.

“Take off your jacket, captain.”

“Captain, I strongly advise against that.”

The words come out fast. Its the consultant, Burnham. Her voice stays surprisingly calm and cold but there is a quiet urgency to it.

Lorca looks to her and she looks back. “It is a illogical thing to do. Everything he does is indicating that he is only playing with us.”

Harry groans. He shot her by accident in a similar situation, in the last loop. He holds himself back now, out of curiosity for what is going to happen if he follows down this path.

“Star Fleet does not negotiate with criminals.”, she ends and he tries not to mouth along.

“You would rather let a human being die than take off your bloody jacket?” Harry lifts an eyebrow. “Come on, Lorca.”

Burnham closes her eyes as Lorca unceremoniously unzips his uniform jacket and yanks it off his arms, tossing it to the ground.

If the grin on Harry’s face could get any wider it would split his face.

“And now, Mudd?” Lorca spreads his arms, now in his blue undershirt.

“Well,…”

Harry scratches his head, apparently thinking hard. It is totally quiet on the bridge. He knows that all the officers still sitting at their stations are only waiting for a chance to overwhelm him.  
Nonetheless, there is still this excitement in his chest over what this new situation presents him with. Like unlocking a new story line of some sort.

“…Possibility A, you tell me about the spore drive in detail. Possibility B, you don't and I shoot a few more people, starting with this lady here. C,…”

He looks at Lorca.

“You keep me entertained, Captain.”

In the following silence, Harry frowns and groans.

“No wait, that came out wrong. But this is intriguing, so I guess it's up to you to keep me… intrigued, Captain.”

Lorca stays silent, brows furrowed but clearly confused as his face betrays. He doesn't seem to know what Harry wants him to do and that is endearing on its own.

“Captain, no! I won't let that happen!” Burnham steps forward.

“Shut up, sweetheart! You are out of your depth here!” Harry emphasises his words by lifting up his phaser again. It annoys him how she always butts in.

And she is an unwilling hostage, he knows that.  
In a former loop, she attacked him in a suicidal move but had this look of satisfaction in her eyes when he shot her.  
A few seconds later he had known why: Just like Harry before, Burnham must have drawn the conclusion that Tyler and Lorca both got compromised when her life was in danger.  
He truly saluted her guts to eliminate herself, as Lorca tackled him down and he had to destroy the ship to start the loop again.

He doesn't want to make the same mistake twice and simply shoots her in the leg this time. She goes down immediately, crying out in pain.

“You sick son of a bitch…” Lorca moves in his direction, his intent to kill almost visible like some red murderous halo.

Past experiences have taught Harry to place a warning shot in front of the captain's feet before simply putting the phaser back to Burnham’s head.

“Everyone stay down!”, he calls out as the other officers begin to move. They slowly sink back down on their seats.

Harry considers the situation before he shouts: “I want everyone to leave the bridge! We need some privacy here.”

The last sentence is directed at Lorca.

“Captain, no!” Burnham pleads from the floor. She sounds desperate.  
Harry finds that her presence continues to piss him off.

Lorca looks at her, at the other officers in the room. His fists are clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Perhaps you need further encouragement.”, Harry ponders, “Computer, access self-destruction program of the ship.”

“Move. Evacuate the bridge.”, Lorca says without hesitation.

They look at him like he has gone insane.

“That’s an order, you morons!”

Harry keeps his eyes fixed on Lorca as his bridge crew stands up from their stations and leaves, their boots and rustling uniforms the only sound in the room.  
A strange feeling runs through him seeing the star fleet captain like this. Pure power it is, he assumes. Winning. Triumph.  
Better than anything they sell on the backstreets on Alpha Centauri.

“Consultant Burnham stays with us for a while.” Harry says, drinking in Lorca's angry but helpless reaction.

“She needs immediate medical aid, Mudd!”

Harry raises his eyebrows and looks down at Burnham like he maybe missed something about her condition. “Yes, I know.”, he says. “I shot her in the leg.”

She glares back up at him, both her hands pressed to the phaser burn. “Captain Lorca, there is no reasoning with him! You know that as good as I do. He plays you like a fiddle!”

Harry ignores her.  
It is maybe time to offer a little candy to his victim, just to keep him on edge.

“We could get her to med-bay, my dear Gabriel. But under the condition that you keep this whole thing  fun.”

“Like what? Do you want me to do a handstand?”

“Well, I said it before and will gladly point it out again: I'm quite interested in this ship's spore drive,… apart from that, why don't you...I don’t know...take off your shirt? Show off your biceps?”

It's a power play. Harry essentially handed Lorca a gun and the choice between his ship, the woman or his own dignity.  
He notices his own reaction, his pants getting snug at Lorca’s distress.

The man’s choice is surprising to him, he has to admit.

He could have sworn that he went too far. For a moment, there was definitely a dangerous glint in Lorca's gaze before he looks to Burnham.

They lock eyes until Lorca apparently can't take it anymore.

He pulls the shirt over his head and it lands next to his jacket on the floor.

“Impressive.” Harry nods, laughing. “In more than one way, Captain.”

“Your word, Mudd.” Lorca says through gritted teeth.

“Ah, yes, yes. Computer, transport to sick-bay. One person.”

They are alone after that, which Harry likes.

“You really think you could humiliate me with this?” Lorca growls, his arms crossed before his chest, still standing before the big screen in the front of the bridge.

He watches as Harry walks over to the captain's chair and slumps down on it, spreading his legs wide.  
He looks Lorca up and down slowly.  
Now, this is a new.  
A glance to his wrist assures him that there are still twelve minutes left on this loop.  
Enough time to explore this new found… thing.  
Exactly how far can he go with this?

“It really hurt, you know? When you hit me in the face. I never thought a star fleet captain would leave a civilian behind.”

“You were a snitch. I'm hoping damn well it hurt!”

Harry clicks his tongue at the outburst. “Careful there, Gabe. - Can I call you Gabe? I have all the strings in hand.”

Lorca's next word seems to come out victorious from a struggle deep within himself. It sounds so angry, for he is angry at himself for his inability to understand the situation he is in.

“…How?”, he asks, over-pronouncing every letter.

“Take off your pants and I might tell you.”, Harry says playfully.

The answer comes like a gun shot, harsh and aggressive. “If you think, that I am going to fuck you, Mudd, then you are wildly mistaken.”

Harry grins again, he can't help himself. Lorca standing there before the nearly black monitor, half naked in the dim light of the bridge, his clothes, which Harry made him take off, at his feet, and so angry, so frightened, so on edge - it's a sight to behold.

Harry likes women.  
If he feels attracted to men once in a while, he usually brushes it off. But something about Lorca lets his breath hitch. And even if it is only the adrenaline from having him as an opponent.  
And winning.  
He wants to put what he is feeling into words, but finds it rather difficult.  
He wants…to kiss the captain. While simultaneously stabbing him, to see the slightly bewildered and offended look his face always shows while dying.  
It is very confusing.

“Now, now, Gabe…” He gestures around. “What on earth made you believe that it’s not me who is fucking you?”

He quickly lifts his phaser.

“Careful there. Not so sudden. You wanted to take off your pants, I recall.”

The captain's eyes flicker unsteadily and Harry sees his adam’s apple jump lightly when he swallows.

“Computer, access self destruction again.”

“Wait!”

Lorca lifts his hands and Harry raises an eyebrow. As the other man still seems to hesitate, he sighs.

“Do you really value your pants more than all the souls aboard, Gabriel?

Lorca straightens his back, his face hardening even more.

“I'm thinking somehow, you'll blow us up, no matter what I do.”

The southern drawl in his words has gotten far stronger, maybe because of the stress he is under.  
But he can't possibly know just how close to home he comes with that and Harry does not intent to let him know.  
He carefully picks his next words.

“Do you want that, Gabriel? A second Buran? Only with you aboard this time?…Tell me the thought hasn't occurred to you: to follow your crew into the darkness.”

He knows instantly that he hit mid-target.  
He shifts on the chair, shivering, as seemingly all of Lorca's defences collapse like card houses. The man’s face is a painfully twisted mask.

“Fuck you,” he says. His voice is hoarse.

He kicks off his boots.  
He grabs the waistband of his uniform pants and pushes them down, over his legs, before stepping out of them.

Harry watches him, cheering inwardly, clapping his hands in anticipation. He leans back, his arousal now clearly visible against his trousers.

He keeps silent for a second, blinks, before inclining his head.  
He snorts, then he laughs out loud.

Lorca doesn't say a word, just stares ahead while Harry tries to calm himself.  
He managed only halfway when he begins to speak.

“Why…” He gestures to the midsection of the other man, pulling a face, still giggling. “Why no underwear?…Amuse me, captain.”

Lorca doesn't answer.

Harry chuckles.

“It should be clear, even to you Captain, that, as long as you are talking to me, I'm not blowing up your ship.”

“Issued Star Fleet underwear contains a material I am allergic to. Alternatives have proven to not fit under the uniform.”

“Ah, yes, under your fashionable spandex suits… I'm sorry, but this is still too glorious.”

Harry shakes his head, beginning to giggle again.

“A Star Fleet Captain wearing no underwear... Has…Has nobody noticed before? Like ever?”

Laughing, he looks at the crystal on his wrist and has to realise that there are only five minutes and a few seconds remaining to this loop.  
A muffle to his good mood.

“Anyway, tell me about the spore drive, Gabriel.”

“No.” Lorca looks him dead in the eye. “I will not.” There is no fight in his words, no fire. It is a simple statement.

“Well then, there is no reason for me to not blow the Discovery into oblivion.”

“Except that you are still on it.”  
The words sound confident and cold like steel, but they both know that Lorca clings to them like a last straw.

Harry gestures vaguely with his hand.

“Nothing you should be concerned about, at that point.”

He wants to add something, but stops and closes his mouth as he sees Lorca slowly coming towards him, leaving his clothes behind.

Harry observes the man unashamedly as he passes the work stations barefoot, though he lifts up the hand with the phaser from the side lean, as a warning.  
   
Lorca comes to a stop before the chair and Harry looks up at him, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.  
The captain drops to his knees slowly, keeping his eyes on Harry at all times.  
The motion and the intense blue stare go straight to his groin and he exhales as Lorca, very carefully, places one off his hands on Harry's upper thigh.

He breathes heavily but raises an eyebrow.

“Are you going to give me a blow job, Captain?”

Lorca's face is unreadable but he moves his hand to cup the other man’s erection through his pants and Harry's eyes fall shut at the contact.

He regrets letting his guard down almost immediately as he can feel the other hand, brutally yanking at one of his ankles, pulling him out of the chair.  
His head hits the floor and now Lorca is over him with bared teeth, like a wild dog.  
Harry curses, trying to get one of his knees between himself and his attacker but Lorca pins him down with the whole of his body weight, nearly crushing the wrist of the hand that still holds the phaser.

“I will kill you.”

The low snarl is right next to his ears and sounds almost gleeful and for a moment Harry truly is afraid. He can't use his phaser and the detonation trigger is in the pocket of his vest, where he can't reach it.  
He squirms and struggles but Lorca is simply physically stronger.

“Computer…!”, he shouts but he is cut off. -The captain quickly takes his one hand from Harry's arm and puts it at his throat, strangling him.  
His bare chest is moving, the tendons and muscles in his neck protruding and he is heaving through still gritted teeth while he increases the pressure on Harry’s windpipe.  
Harry panics, starts slashing around but can only look at the now dark, murderous eyes.

This is different than before. Deeper.

He feels like he maybe has stirred something in Lorca that he shouldn't have.

Finally, he is able to reach the secret pocket in the sleeve of his free arm, pulling out his old jack knife.  
It snaps open while he moves it upwards in an arch and plunges it into Lorca's side, right below the last rip.  
The man's eyes go wide but he doesn't let go right away so Harry stabs him again, grunting.

And there it is: the slight look of bewilderment and insult on his face while his blood lands on the floor of the bridge and paints his lips and teeth deep red.

He collapses on top of Harry, mouth opened in a voiceless cry of pain.

And Harry lies there, panting heavily as if they are old lovers, resting post coitus.

On a whim he doesn't want to acknowledge, doesn't want to think about too hard, he lifts his head and bites down on Lorca's neck.  
Maybe only to piss him off.  
And the man is barely alive anymore but has enough fight left in him to try to get away, placing his palms on Harry's chest and the floor, pushing.

He whimpers when Harry holds him in place and he isn't able to get his knees back under his body. Instead his naked thigh gets pressed into Harry's crotch.  
Harry groans and bites into Lorca’s skin even harder until he tastes blood here as well.  
His hips involuntarily buck up into the other man’s body.

Lorca yanks away, rolling off of the other man, despite the enormous pain it must cause him. He lies on his undamaged side, skin waxen because of the blood loss, his pupils not bigger than pinheads.  
His hands are both pressed to the stab wounds, red smears everywhere.

They look at each other and Harry wipes at his mouth with the back off his hand, feeling actually disappointed.

“Freak!” Lorca manages to get out, blood dripping from his chin.

“You are the naked one, darling.”

“F…Fuck you…!” Blood spurts from his mouth, he coughs and Harry sighs. He sits up and lets the jack knife spin around his fingers while he glances at the time crystals.  
2 minutes 34 seconds.

“God,…”, he says, “you actually made me stab you. That's so old-fashioned!”

“…Fuck…you, Mudd!”

“You just seemed to oppose that idea, but if you insist.”

He moves, into a position over the other man but is presented with bloodied bared teeth snapping at him when he tries to get closer.

Harry’s anger and irritation at almost getting outsmarted and killed by Lorca, only adds to the red cloud in his head, putting a haze before his eyes.  
The adrenaline from the fight is still circulating in his body. He never felt more drunk, more aroused.  
More powerful.  
The hate and disgust in Lorca's eyes sends a heatwave through his belly, letting his cock twitch.

He grabs behind himself, pushing Lorca’s now weak arms out of the way and presses his thumb into the gaping wound in the captain's side.

He clicks his tongue, feeling the other man's body heat around his finger, the pulsating warm blood.

And as Lorca opens his mouth to scream out in agony, Harry quickly seizes the opportunity and kisses him deeply, muffling the sound with his lips and teeth.

He keeps Lorca's face in place with his other hand as the man tries to turn away and he only removes his thumb from the wound when he believes that Lorca might go unconscious, his eyes rolling back in his skull. And oh, he can instantly feel the relief in the captain's frantic breath against his face and how his muscles relax slightly.

Harry has to withstand the urge to pad the other man's arm lightly.

He withdraws his face barely in time before Lorca can bite off his nose, his jaws crashing together with an ugly sound where Harry's face was, only a second ago.

"Careful, Gabe! Jesus!"

He stands up swiftly, well aware of the captain's gaze following him.

Despite his missing clothes and his critical condition, there is still something predatory and lurking about the man.  
He hasn't got the strength left to do or say anything, his breath more of an asthmatic wheezing, the floor around him deep red. - But he still glares.

Everything in Harry is rebelling against what he has to do, because he’s got him; Now, here, almost defeated, but there is less than a minute left to the loop.

So he sighs, feeling robbed of a gift, an opportunity he just discovered, just received and now he has to close the doors on it himself.

“We’ll see each other soon, captain.”, he says, takes on last look around the empty bridge and the naked form of its dying commander and pulls the detonation trigger.


End file.
